I hadn’t heard from Hyacinth in a long time, so her dinner invitation came as a shock. I thought maybe she wanted to reconnect, fix the distance that had grown between us. As her stepfather, I’d always hoped we’d bond someday. Maybe this dinner was finally that moment.

When I arrived, the restaurant was far more upscale than expected. Hyacinth looked different—composed but distracted. She ordered lobster and steak without asking, her energy strange. The conversation felt shallow, full of short answers and nervous glances toward her phone. I sensed something else was going on.

Things got weirder when she whispered to the waiter and left for the bathroom. The bill arrived it was outrageously high. I thought she had ditched me, using me for a free meal. Just as I was about to leave, she returned holding a cake and balloons. I was confused until she said, “You’re going to be a granddad!”

In that moment, everything made sense the secrecy, the awkwardness, the elaborate setup. Hyacinth had planned the dinner to share life-changing news. She wanted me in her life again, and in her child’s too. That night, the wall between us finally fell. We weren’t just reconnecting we were becoming a family.